


Silicone Hugs

by Cock_Zero



Series: Gerard Way: Amatuer Fire Conjurer [2]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, fire conjurer Gerard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1195458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cock_Zero/pseuds/Cock_Zero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank just really wants to hug his best friend without him freaking out about burning him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silicone Hugs

“Just a quick hug?” Frank begged, pouting his lip out at Gerard’s protectively crossed arm. “Please? I won’t get burnt too bad if it’s quick.”

Gerard shook his head resolutely, hugging his arms around him tighter and taking a step back. “No, you’ll still get burned.”

“But-“

“I said no,” Gerard cut him off. “I’m not gonna let you get hurt again.”

Frank scoffed. “That was a minor burn. My hair was barely singed.”

Gerard let out a laugh. “Frank, your mom made you shave your hair down to an inch and a half just so it was even again.”

“Bah!” Frank waved a hand in front of him. “It wasn’t that bad. Besides, I didn’t have… wait a minute.” He dropped his backpack ( _why does he have his backpack?_ Gerard thought) and started digging through it. “Ah ha! I didn’t have these last time!” he grinned, pulling a toy firefighter’s hat and something light green and made of what Gerard could only assume was rubber.

He watched as Frank placed the hat on his head and unfolded the rubber item, sticking his hands into the pockets on the end. “Is… is that an oven mitt?”

“Silicone and guaranteed to not melt or my money back,” Frank grinned proudly.

“I dunno.” Gerard was wary of the mitts. They looked like they’d just melt the instant they touched his skin. He slowly reached out, poking the edge of one with his finger, seeing the small flame that burnt out in less than a second. “Okay, but only a quick one,” he agreed, still reluctant.

Frank’s grin grew wide and he lunged forward, wrapping Gerard up in a weird rubbery-silicone hug. He pulled back after exactly three seconds, his cheeks red from the heat escaping Gerard’s body. “See? Not burnt,” he stated, stepping back.

“Your hat’s melted.”

“What?” He reached up, taking the plastic thing off his head and seeing the warped and dented shape the front had taken. “Aww man. That cost me five dollars.” He let out sigh and tossed the hat to Gerard’s bed. “I wonder if I could coat my whole body in silicone,” he hummed, looking at the mitts.

Gerard froze. He felt his cheeks heating up quickly before Frank yelped and started patting his shirt with the mitts. 

“Gerard! Jesus Christ! Your shirt’s on fire!” he shouted, patting the flames quickly.

Gerard shrieked, yanking at the shirt and pulling it away from his skin. He knew the flames wouldn’t burn him but having his clothes on fire was, none the less, a terrifying sight. His fright only caused the fire to spread. “Shit!”

He hadn’t noticed Frank had left the room until a pot of water was tossed on him, soaking his shirt and half of his jeans. “There. No more flames.” Frank was grinning, angry red blisters on his forearms and a metal pot in hand.

“T-thanks,” Gerard spluttered. He blinked and wiped at his eyes, pushing his hair from his face.

“You look like a drowned rat,” Frank giggled, holding the pot to his chest.

Gerard scowled and stuck out his tongue.

Frank pinched his lips together, trying to stifle his laughs. “I’ll get you a towel,” he said, turning to the door. He came back a few minutes later, pink towel in hand and the pot missing.

“Oh, ha ha,” Gerard said sarcastically. “Pink for the gay boy.” He snatched the towel from Frank’s hands, seeing him trying to hold his laughter in again.

“Actually, it was the towel on top, but now that you mention it. Yeah, pink for the gay boy,” he snickered.

“Y’know,” Gerard said, voice muffled while he dried his hair, “that means you should only use pink towels, too. Better get to throwing out those black ones.”

He heard Frank scoff again and pulled the towel around his shoulders. “As if. Black is the new pink. Or that’s what one of mom’s mags said on the cover. I don’t buy that shit though.”

Gerard shook his head and moved to his dresser, pulling out a clean shirt and jeans. He heard Frank jumping onto the bed, the springs groaning in protest when he flopped down. He was holding the plastic hat in his hands, poking at the warping. “Why the hat?”

“Just because,” Frank replied. He rolled to his back and placed the hat over his face. “Ah man, it smells like melted plastic.”

“I wonder why,” Gerard retorted, walking to the bathroom and closing the door most of the way. He stripped off his wet shirt and jeans, dropping them to the tile floor when he heard Frank speaking again.

“How are we ever gonna have sex if you’re so worried about burning me?”

“I-what?!” Gerard squeaked.

“Y’know, sex. Intercourse. The ol’ in and out,” Frank said.

Gerard felt his body temperature once again rising steadily and he was glad he wasn’t touching anything when he saw the little flames rising off his feet. “F-frank!” He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice (and not have it squeak again) and cool his body down. He moved to the shower, turning the water on, just in case he needed to put himself out. “Frank, we’re not even dating.” 

“So then date me,” Frank stated, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “I mean, I wanna date you.”

“I, uh. I…” Gerard gulped, seeing stronger flames licking up around him. He whined and stepped into the shower, dousing the fire. “I, um. O-okay?”

“Okay?” Frank asked, poking his head around the bathroom door. “Is that the answer you wanna give? Not something more like ‘fuck yeah, you’re a hot piece of ass and I’d be hella lucky to date you’?”

He was smirking at Gerard and Gerard stuck his tongue out. “Don’t say ‘hella’ ever again.”

Frank grinned and saluted him. “Now, hurry up and cool off so I can finally kick your ass at Smash Brothers.”

Gerard laughed and shook his head, watching Frank disappear from the doorway. “You’ll never beat me! And bring me a pair of boxers!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank hummed, tossing a pair into the bathroom. They landed on the counter next to the sink.

“And a towel?” The offending pink towel was dropped onto the counter, Frank’s hand slipping out of view.


End file.
